Secrets
by Drumboy100
Summary: Ben is away, and Adam is left to manage Little Joe's new behavior problem. Is it due to adolescent angst, or is there more to it? Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's warnings:** mild language, brief drinking, some disciplinary corporal punishment.

"Three weeks max for this ridiculous court case, I promise, Adam," Ben Cartwright sighed as he squinted distracted into the first rays of daybreak. "I don't know why they're suddenly dusting off papers from thirty years ago to try to find a loophole, but I can't say it surprises me anymore."

Adam shook his head in resignation. There was always someone who was trying to claim a piece of the Ponderosa through whatever means. His family had worked hard to get where they were, and creating a bull's eye for moochers was an unfortunate side effect of success. "We'll be fine here, Pa, we're grown men, you know. I know what kind of businessman you are, I'll make decisions accordingly in your absence."

"I know you will, you have all along. That's not what I'm worried about." Ben exhaled, looking his eldest in the eye and putting a firm hand on his arm. "It's about this…this adjustment problem that Little Joe's been having."

"I know what're you're talking about." Little Joe was fifteen and, while Hoss and Adam had gone through their own rebellious stages, Joe's was…somewhat different. Not just finding his own way in the world, but doing so quite angrily, with more than a twinge of resentment.

"While his father is gone, the authority passes to the oldest brother." Ben looked at Adam meaningfully, and released the grip on Adam's arm. "I've told Joe as much."

Adam met his father's gaze, then nodded slowly in acknowledgement. "I don't think I can change this attitude of his, but I think I can keep it contained until you get back."

"Thanks, Adam." Ben briefly restrained his professionalism, leaning in to hug his firstborn. "Love you, son."

"You too, Pa," Adam mumbled, embarrassed but speaking truthfully.

BBBBBB

"I'll be back late tonight," Little Joe announced, and immediately walked out the door.

_I guess so_, Adam thought, fighting down a surge of annoyance as he was forced to run after his sibling. "Hold on, Joe," he called.

Little Joe sighed, air forced out of his lungs a tad more forcefully than was necessary, and whirled an adolescent attitude on his pursuer. "What?"

Adam decided to match the attitude, hoping that he came off as authoritative yet playful. "Can I ask why you'll be late? Is it a business meeting, city council, or what?"

"I'm an adult, why do I need to give specifics?"

"Out of something called _respect_. Have you noticed that I'm twelve years older than you, and I still let the family know where I'm going to be?

Adam was rewarded with a glare in response.

"Have it your way. Anyway, I'd like you to be home right after school, please," Adam said brusquely and crossed the front porch in two steps, now putting his sibling in the position of running after him.

"What, am I five years old?" Little Joe challenged as he banged through the porch door and stepped in front of Adam.

Adam turned abruptly to face him. "No. Joe, this is two or three weeks we need to get through, and then you can go back to having whatever issues with Pa that you were having. I'm not your wife for you to order around, or your father, or your mother, so just put all these issues on the back burner for a few weeks and don't shoot the substitute."

"I'll be home at a time that's convenient for me," Joe said coldly, and Adam hid a shiver of trepidation at the menace in his baby brother's tone.

Yet Adam knew that if he lost ground now, he would face three weeks of utter disrespect. "School gets out at four," Adam said quietly. "I'll give you until six o'clock to walk through this door."

Joe turned and strode out without another word.

"_Damn_ it, I was in such a good mood when I woke up this morning!" Adam swore as he began the first of many pacing sessions.

Hoss couldn't hold it in any longer, and let a soft guffaw escape his lips from his inconspicuous place at the farther corner of the breakfast table.

"Yeah, keep eating, Hoss," Adam snapped, secretly relieved that he found a target for his displaced anger. "You're welcome to take this chore from me if you think you can do any better."

Hoss raised his hands in mock surrender. "You've gotten the benefits of being second-in-command all these years, now you can enjoy the drawbacks as well."

"Come on, I need your help with this, Hoss. Don't you take his side."

"I'm not on anybody's side. This is going to be an awesome three weeks, though. I'm thinking I might work in the fields extra long hours, or actually find a date for some weekend nights." Hoss cleared out to avoid a rejoinder.

Adam reminded himself that Little Joe was the youngest and was used to being the center of attention, and eventually busied himself to respond to the day's business correspondence.

BBBBBBB

_Jesus, Mary, and Joseph._ The time was 7:15 and still ticking, and Adam groaned inwardly, knowing that he had to follow through with his promise in order to be taken seriously for the next three weeks. Adam was steeling his resolve, also hoping that Hoss would not be home to critique his decisions.

Adam tried a variety of techniques to distract himself, but felt the mounting tension as the minutes passed. If it weren't for the confrontation this morning, he might have worried about the little punk. Adam envisioned his brother in a whole new way, the jacket with the collar that always stood straight up, the friendly smile that might actually be more of a smirk—

And then the vision was fulfilled with reality. Little Joe opened the door and softly closed it again, watching carefully. Only when he saw Adam did his expression once again darken with a steely resolution.

The two men faced each other silently, knowing what was to come, each dreading it in his own way. Adam spoke first. "What time does the clock say?" he asked gently.

"I'm hardly sneaking in at 3 a.m. after a rowdy night of partying."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It's seven-frikkin-forty-eight, warden."

Adam could feel his teeth grinding. "I don't think it would have been too difficult for you to get home an hour and forty-eight minutes ago," he managed.

"No speeches," Joe almost spat, his arm crossed. An expression of fear briefly passed across his features, and was replaced by defiance. "Do whatever you need to do to prove yourself to your father, go ahead and do it."

Adam caught Joe by the scruff of that jacket that he'd suddenly grown to detest, and in one fluid motion yanked it, twisted it, and pressed down so that the person wearing it was facedown across the desk piled with business papers that now seemed so trivial in comparison. Adam kept his left hand pressed on Little Joe's lower back, keeping him firmly in place as the right hand unhooked his own belt and pulled it out in three motions.

Adam caught himself, taking deep breaths to avoid punishing out of pure anger. He reminded himself that the purpose of this intervention was to live in semi-peace until their father's return, and determinedly resolved to only strike as hard as it took to get his point across. Little Joe turned his face away from his inflictor, but Adam's eyes were unfocused anyway, doubling up his belt in his left hand, the instrument meeting its target with a slapping sound rivaled only by the suddenly agonizingly loud ticking of the clock.

How many strokes was he supposed to give? Adam had never been struck in his life, and had no idea of the average. He settled on fifteen, his brother's age.

As soon as Adam released his hold and moved away, Little Joe swiftly moved past him and upstairs, avoiding eye contact and shutting his door softly to avoid further unwanted attention. Later Adam recalled the experience as feeling slightly drunk with unprocessed emotion, plopping down at the desk with now hopelessly disheveled business papers, even trying to physically cover his ears in an attempt to avoid the echo of his brother's last words.


	2. Chapter 2

Nevertheless, Adam found himself literally on his knees in his brother's bedroom two days later.

"You're the middle brother, Hoss, you've got to play peacemaker here!" Adam pleaded, a wild-eyed look in his eye that unnerved Hoss.

"Alright, I'll try!" Hoss conceded. "I don't have any magic solutions here, you know, Adam."

"I had no idea," Adam repeated, standing and running a hand through his prematurely thinning hair. "The whole countryside has been seeing him hang out with the Peticci gang, I'm the last to know of it?"

"I thought you and Pa knew, Adam, I thought that's what half the problem was about!" Hoss pleaded. "The family runs a printing business, for God's sakes. There's no proof that that gang is involved in any—"

Adam groaned aside any further commentary. "Two and a half weeks," he repeated to himself. "All I have to do is hold down the fort for two and a half weeks. I would never embarrass him they way he's embarrassing me, this is really low."

Hoss paused, and decided to take the chance. "You know, you cast an awfully long shadow, Adam," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Joe might be trying to find his place in the world, if he doesn't seem needed here with you and Pa."

"What? Do _you_ feel that way?" Adam faced Hoss with a fresh level of incredulity on his face.

"Not me, no, I'm enough of a loafer to be fine playing second fiddle. But Joe, I don't know, he has to find his own way."

"Okay, well, I hate that we need to act like woman, but we have to talk about all this at some point. But tonight…when Joe comes home, I'll have to…I'll have to set consequences if he associates with a rough crowd in the next few weeks, and then can you take him aside and try to talk him out of it? I'll be bad guy, you be good guy?"

"Fine, Adam, but just—don't set me up! I think he's looking for support outside our family right now!"

Adam groaned in response. They both heard a door open and softly close…just before 6:00., the same as last night.

Adam cringed and steeled himself to go downstairs. Little Joe noticed him and similarly stiffened his spine for the coming confrontation.

Adam decided to try being vulnerable, if only for a few seconds. "Joe, I just heard about you associating with…certain newcomers to the area. What's going on, bro?"

Little Joe had no intention of having his barriers crumble. "You will not tell me who I can and cannot be friends with, Adam."

Adam took a deep breath. "I'm just asking what attracts you to them, Joe."

"It's personal."

Adam felt his patience give way under the blunt reality of a steel barrier that he could not scale. "Some of us need to run a ranch here, baby brother," he responded sarcastically. He held up a hand as Joe attempted a scathing retort. "I would have talked about your feelings, Joe, but you didn't want to. But I'm at the end of my rope. Let me hear of you associating with those felons again, and you will experience a repeat of the punishment you did the other night. Or—" Adam gave him a meaningful look—"OR—you could just put with these rules until Dad comes home, and take up your issues with him, as I told you before."

Joe furiously gave Adam a wilting look as he went upstairs and locked himself yet again in his bedroom. Hoss gently knocked at the door and eventually persuaded Little Joe to grant him admittance.

BBBBBB

As Adam waited for his brother to return three nights later, he mercifully found himself in a state of semi-dissociation. He remembered Joe throughout the years, a toddler with all the attention…an award he'd won at school, that had made their father want to throw a bash that reminded Adam of the story of the Prodigal Son, a fact that was all the more poignant as Adam had been literally out in the fields holding down the fort as the party went on all day, and part of the night.

And now this. Joe had matured into a good-looking, suave teenager, with more than his fair share of attention from girls. Adam had barely had time for girls with all his responsibilities. What could a kid this spoiled possibly want?

His mind barely registered relief as Joe showed up of his own volition this time. "I don't know why it has to be like this, Joe," Adam said numbly.

Joe glared at him with an expression of steel. "You don't know _anything_," he said emphatically, yet bent over to accept his punishment.

Adam used a riding crop this time, hoping it would be more effective. It was only more effective at making him feel guilty, as he heard Joe sucking in his breath in acute pain. Last night, he'd seen Joe shuffling uncomfortably in an awkward gait that betrayed his attempts at minimizing the effects of this nightly punishment.

Adam felt his stoicism crumble in the last couple of strokes, striking more harshly than usual. Joe flinched but did not cry out. Adam roughly grabbed Joe, pulled him to standing, and pushed him against a wall. "I'll tan you every night, boy, if that's what it takes," he growled with controlled fanaticism.

"What it takes for what?" Joe winced involuntarily, leaning his weight backward against the barn wall.

"For you to think of someone besides yourself."

Joe's mouth dropped open in a moment of bewilderment, then shut again. "I'm being selfish?" he asked dubiously, and then, between ragged breaths of exhausted pain, slowly began to chuckle deeply.

"Damn it, this is not a _joke_!" Adam snapped, seeing stars in an attempt to suppress his anger. This time, his efforts did not work. "Your entire life has been a series of selfish acts!"

Joe gaped in disbelief, then clutched his hair to distract his hands from throttling his brother. "Yeah, that sums up my life," he responded, his voice dangerously low.

"I'm saying that you could try to live a life of redemption, instead of making my life a living hell!" Adam screamed, his hands tightly clamped on his brother's shoulders. "I guess I have to start walking you to and from school."

Little Joe's eyes narrowed. "What goes on in this barn is between you and me, Adam. But if you start bringing other people into it, embarrassing me, then I will have to inform Pa of that incident with the senator's daughter last December."

Adam's lungs weren't drawing in enough air, and he almost panted in his frustration that now blackmail was part of the equation. "What can I do, then? If I have to tie you to the bed, I'll be tempted to set the house on fire as well."

"The only person around here who makes any attempt to understand is Hoss," Little Joe snapped. "He said he'd try to explain to you how—how hard it is—"

And that was the first moment of their lives that Little Joe briefly became stronger than his powerful older brother, surprising him with an arm twist that left Adam gasping in confused pain, holding his shoulder protectively while Little Joe ran out into the night.


	3. Chapter 3

"We have to find him, Hoss," Adam repeated for the umpteenth time. "I'll die if we don't, I'll die."

"Why?" Hoss asked suddenly. "For Pa, or because you're worried about him?"

Adam frowned, seriously considering the question. "Because I'm worried about him," he finally conceded.

Hoss, satisfied, gave him the clue he'd been looking for. "All I know from that one conversation I had with him is that his gang's fall-back spot was behind Brewster's ranch, at the abandoned barn," Hoss said.

Adam considered. "I'm going, Hoss," he decided. "Come if you want, but stay way back. I'll let you know if I need you."

And so Adam found himself tying his horse to a distant fence, making final plans with Hoss and creeping softly toward the barn with a hand on his pistol. A welcome spurt of adrenaline coursed through his body, and he shivered with half-excitement, half-fear. These kinds of busts gave life some spice, instead of the never-ending spiral of trying to read another person's mind and guess what he wanted. It was hard enough to keep up with the train wreck, much less stay one step ahead of it.

Adam approached the barn door and slowly, cautiously inched the door to the side. It looked dark and unused, but this was his only lead, and he was going to follow it.

Cautiously he lit a candle, intending to search for clues. Picking it up and turning around, the light from the flame suddenly revealed a semi-circle of very rough-looking youths, with his little brother in the center—

Adam nearly dropped the candle in shock. Someone snatched it out of his hands, blowing it out with just time enough for Adam to see Little Joe take a menacing step forward.

A violent punch knocked the wind out of Adam, and he felt many pairs of hands holding his arms in place. Adam gasped for breath, feeling his knees begin to buckle. "I knew that idiot would squeal," Joe said from the darkness, and Adam felt himself roughly shoved onto his back. Then Adam groaned in sheer physical pain as a boot drove viciously into his side, barely avoiding his ribs.

"No need to do that, he got the message," Joe said to his companion. Adam felt hot breath close to his face. "Do _not_ come looking for me again," Joe warned. "I do not want to be found. This is a taste of what will happen if you interfere again. I'm done with my old life."

"Come on, let's take care of him," a voice said.

"No," Joe said sharply. "I told you, I know him. He won't come for me again."

From within a swirling vortex of pain, Adam could still register the moist dropping of someone's saliva splat onto the side of his nose, and roll down his cheek.

BBBBBBB

"This is getting a whole lot better," Hoss sighed as he walked in the door and sat next to Adam. "It's a telegram from Pa." He showed it to his brother.

Adam groaned, shielding his eyes from the glare of the morning sun. Thank God Hoss had come for him last night after only a few minutes of despairing agony in the barn, and Hoss had all but cradled him on the way home to avoid falling off their overburdened horse.

"Going much worse than planned. Plaintiff's attorney producing deeds and documents I had no idea existed. Looks like we will have to forfeit a good deal of land, if we can save the Ponderosa at all. Pa"

Adam frowned, letting the telegram rest on his chest as he closed his eyes, still lying down on the couch. "Something doesn't seem right, Hoss," he said eventually. "Pa is meticulous with documents. He researched every square foot of this land that he acquired, he even wired provinces out of jurisdiction. I just…let me think on it awhile."

Adam drifted in and out of consciousness, as far as the pain in his side would allow him. He tried to concentrate on the puzzle at hand, but a defeatist attitude kept reminding him of what terrible timing all this was. To lose their land, plus a brother at the same time.

_You know, you cast an awfully long shadow, Adam._

Adam sat bolt upright, ignoring the blood pounding in his head in protest. "Oh, no," he breathed. "Oh, nononono. Hoss!" he screamed, stumbling toward the door and looking frantically for his brother. "Hoss!"

"I'm here," Hoss replied breathlessly as he appeared from around a corner.

"What did you say the Peticci family does for a living?"

"They run a print shop outside of town," Hoss said, puzzled. "They do contract work."

"Yeah. And all this happened with Joe a few months after they move to town. And it's reaching a climax right now, while Pa is away on this court case. And suddenly documents appear out of nowhere."

Hoss understood. "Contract work, all right. In forging."

"They're working with the people suing Pa. Joe must have figured this out, had no proof, and was working on infiltrating it himself."

"Why didn't he at least come to us about it?" Hoss asked in frustration, but they both knew the answer.

"I didn't hit him hard enough, I should have knocked the stupidity out of him," Adam growled in anger. Anger was a much safer emotion to deal with than fear. "He feels some kind of need to prove himself, but really, are the Peticcis that dense? Now they've got a hostage, so if this court case goes sour, they've got a plan B. And Joe must know way too much by now for them to let him go." Adam flung the house door open, strode toward the coffee table, and took a generous dose of whiskey. For medicinal purposes.

"What are we going to do?" Hoss asked flatly.

Adam looked at him thoughtfully. He took more medicine.


	4. Chapter 4

"Nothing there, Hoss," Adam reported, disappointed but not surprised. He took the reins from Hoss at their meeting point, both men swinging into their saddles. "The Petuccis cleared out of their house. They know what they're doing."

"Oh, no," Hoss groaned. "They could be anywhere. So what, we wait for a ransom note?"

"I don't know. They can't have gone far. The first thing is to send some kind of a cryptic telegram to Pa. He's got to know what's going on." Adam rubbed the back of his neck.

"Why didn't they just kidnap Joe in the first place?" Hoss asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they've been pumping him for information the whole time. I'm sure Joe knows some things as well, but who knows if it was an equal exchange." Adam gave a wave as the brothers rode in opposite directions.

Adam walked into the post office. "Telegram, please," he said.

The post master looked up. The face was awfully familiar. Almost like a face he'd seen last night.

Adam got the first punch in, but was quickly subdued when five men appeared for reinforcement, blocking and locking the door. "You made it right before closing," one remarked wryly. He gave orders over his shoulder for someone to hide Adam's horse and put the "closed" sign back on the window.

Adam knew he was hopelessly outnumbered, and braced himself for another beating. He had to cooperate for now, especially since they had Joe. No more punches came, however; he was thrown into an adjacent room and tied to a chair…face to face with his darling baby brother, tied in another chair.

Joe looked apprehensive, but not as much as he should be, in a situation like this. Relief and anger coursed through Adam's veins, and he glared at the kid who'd put them in this position. "Next time I'll use a poker straight from the fireplace," he seethed.

An older woman, obviously in authority, walked briskly into the room. "Good, glad we have two of you for insurance. If either one of you tries to escape, we'll shoot the other one in front of you."

_Great_. Now their only hope was Hoss, depending on when he'd notice that Adam was pretty late getting back from sending that telegram.

"We should have been gone by now, but had to attend to some…last-minute details," the woman sighed in irritation. "When our product is ready for shipment, you'll be in…tight quarters for awhile." She left.

Adam inspected his surroundings to be sure there was no means of escape, and was rewarded by a resounding slap in the face. Their guards took their posts very seriously, and the brothers were not even allowed to communicate.

It must have only been an hour (but felt like much longer) before it was time to go. Adam's feet were untied, although his legs were held in place by two men, and someone wheeled in a…coffin. He smelled an acrid burning from the other room. Adam shivered involuntarily—he was quite claustrophobic. This was obviously a specialized coffin—thick padding and thick wood…to be as sound-proof as possible. Adam was put in on his stomach, with his entire body wrapped to ensure no possible means of escape. The gag literally made him gag. He'd been in scrapes before, but he didn't know how they'd get out of this one.

The coffins were placed in a wagon, far apart. As they were the last to be loaded, the wagon left immediately.

"Leaving the area so soon?" a neighbor's voice that Adam recognized called out.

"A death in the family, yes," the woman's voice responded, the perfect blend of pleasant and sad. She was good, Adam had to admit.

"Good luck out there," the neighbor called.

"Hey—hey, wait, those people have my brothers!" Adam had never been so relieved to hear Hoss's guttural voice.

"Damn it—if we'd only left five minutes earlier!" a man in the wagon swore.

Adam heard a few shots, felt a jolt and a lean, and knew that Hoss had splintered some wheels.

."Get the sheriff!" someone screamed from outside. "There's shooting going on!"

"What's going on?" Sheriff Coffee's voice appeared, and steadied Adam's heartbeat considerably. "Every able-bodied man needs to come as backup," he called down the street to whoever could hear.

"My brothers have got to be in that wagon, Sheriff," Hoss pleaded. "Please, please, search it."

"What? I can't just go searching through—"

"Trust me. You have my word as a Cartwright, and these people are coming and going in a matter of months."

"We can't open those coffins, Sheriff," the older woman was arguing persistently when they came to that section. "Do you know how unsanitary that is? Those bodies died of infectious diseases."

"I am really trusting you on this one, Hoss," the sheriff said firmly. "Open them, please, ma'am."

Adam heard a screw turn, and sank with relief. But no daylight appeared.

"Oh, god, shut it up. My apologies. Hoss, what is the meaning of this?" the sheriff demanded.

"They must be on another wagon," Hoss said desperately.

"Feel free to go on your way," the sheriff said.

_What?! _Adam attempted to scream, to no avail.

"Wait—wait!" Hoss said. Adam could almost hear his brother summoning all remaining brainpower. "Do you see how deep those coffins are?"

"Shall we open them again?" the woman asked sweetly.

"No. Hoss, please. You know what, though…I have never seen a coffin of this design before."

"We have specific cultural needs, and use our own types of coffins. Please, stop upsetting our family in our time of grief. Can you point us toward another wagon for purchase?"

"Please open this coffin again, ma'am. In fact…Hoss, go get the locksmith."

"I'm here, sheriff."

"What do you make of this?"

Adam heard a series of grunts, groans, mm-hmmms…the locksmith observed, "What, is this a secret compartment?"…and finally, he saw a glimmer of light.

"Sweet Jesus! You sick-ass people are under arrest," the sheriff exclaimed in disgust.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days later, Ben Cartwright jumped off his wagon before the horses had come to a stop. "We won, we won!" he excitedly announced to his three grinning sons. "I'm still not sure how it happened. It was going terribly, they were producing legitimate-looking documents of deeds way back when this country was just getting settled. Then at the very end, my attorney got an almost exact duplicate of a previous deed, with just a few alterations. How could it be an original if there were two of them, and not even identical? Also, we received two physical print moulds that were used to create the forgeries—definitely modern!"

"Did it come from an anonymous source?" Little Joe asked with a smirk.

"Sheriff Coffee sent it over, he was able to link some of the—" Ben cut off and shifted his weight, eying the three suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling that you lads aren't as impressed with this news as I thought you'd be?"

Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe looked at each other knowingly. "Come in and sit down, Pa."

"So you three will be telling _me_ a story, huh?" Ben said ten minutes later, ignoring his tea.

Adam looked pointedly at Little Joe.

Joe relished the idea of taking credit where credit was due, but was also uneasy at some of the reaction he knew he'd get. "Well, uh…it started when…well..."

"Yes?" Ben prompted.

"The Petricci clan started behaving nicely toward me…" Little Joe moved an inch farther away from his father, as if that would help anything. "I asked myself why…I saw some documents on your desk about this court case…I knew what their family did for a living—"

Ben sprang to his feet menacingly. "When did you come to these conclusions?" he demanded.

"Well…maybe six weeks ago."

"And you—you kept this secret from the family!—"

"Not secret, exactly, Pa, I just knew that you all would be afraid for me, and I was in the best position—"

"Let's finish our story, Pa," Hoss interceded, and Ben grudgingly sat back down.

"So Joe made my life a living hell, just to go along with this friendship ruse," Adam said with an eye roll.

"Your right arm creates a burning inferno of its own," Joe retorted. "At least you were on the more comfortable side of the desk."

"And?" Ben snapped.

"Adam got jumped, and Joe went along with it, and moved in full-time with his buddies," Hoss hurriedly explained.

"Earlier that day was the most important part," Joe interrupted, and smiled with pride. "The reason I got home so late the night before, (which Adam loved, by the way), was because I'd spent that day fulfilling the fruits of my labor. I stole those two physical moulds that the clan used to create the first document, which was due to be used as evidence in court next week. I paid the post master a generous tip for creating a fake telegram from the people who were suing you, Pa, who they were of course working with, and using their own encrypted language to send a telegram telling them to securely deliver a new deed for the northwest section of the Ponderosa, since the "y" and "p" were too identical to a similar deed they had forged."

Ben opened his mouth to continue lecturing, but closed it again, impressed despite himself. "Wow, you sure learned a lot about forgery, printing, land deeds, and cracking secret codes in a short period of time."

Little Joe flushed with pleasure.

"That fake telegram was sent just in time, since the Fetuccis were just about to burn all evidence of their fake printing press," Adam further explained. "The clan put the "y" and "p" print moulds to the side and created new ones, Joe hid them in his shoes, and they printed a new deed as quickly as they could. They were frantically waiting for it to dry on the day they got busted, and they burned all the moulds all at once."

"They were also working on making the paper look old," Joe added. "Painstaking little wrinkles, some yellow age spots—it's actually pretty interesting—" he cleared his throat at Ben's stern look to proceed. "The jig was up pretty much after we jumped Adam in that old barn behind—"

_"We?!"_

"Adam's look of surprise and despair was so genuine, the clan was convinced that I really had parted from the family," Joe said. "Ten minutes later they pretty much said thanks, now that gives us all a few days to get out of dodge before your brothers start looking for you, you're our hostage now—"

Ben groaned and facepalmed.

"They'd already packed up their house and been planning to leave earlier that day, and only needed to stay to print that new deed right away," Hoss said. "The only halfway decent set up printer is at the postmaster's, so they gave Mr. Anderson something nice to drink, which knocked him out for 24 hours. They dragged him into the woods three miles away and left him under some bushes to wake up."

"I went in to send you a telegram, Pa, which I guess they were expecting, because then they had two hostages to use against each other," Adam said. "They burned the print moulds, which Joe had wanted to take a couple but never got the chance, and they put us in…specially crafted coffins in order to escape." Adam shuddered.

"Coffins!"

"Thank God Hoss showed up just when he did, wondering why I hadn't come home right away. He shot the wagon wheels, the sheriff was summoned, and somehow Hoss persuaded Coffee to thoroughly search two very deep "coffins" with a secret compartment underneath."

Ben walked to Hoss, sat down, and wrapped his arms around him. Hoss flushed and smiled, looking a bit unintelligent in his deep happiness.

"And the last order of business was convincing Sheriff Coffee not to tell you all this immediately, since you still had a court case to finish," Adam concluded. "We needed you at the top of your game."

"And…we needed to say this in person," Joe said.

Ben was silent, as he hadn't been during the story. He took a moment to process. He got up and began pacing.

"Thanks, Hoss, for saving the day at the end. Thanks for your attempts to hold down the fort during all this, Adam." (Adam winced at his father's choice of verb.) "And, Joe—" Ben Cartwright turned and faced his youngest son squarely.

Joe looked uncertain, but hopeful.

"All's well that ends well, and I understand that you're young, you want to overcome challenges, be the hero, all that. But don't you ever…_ever_…" Ben leaned in to punctuate his remark. "keep secrets from the family again. You had to give a lot of information about our personal business in order to get some of theirs, right?" Joe nodded, and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants in discomfort. "And what was your plan on how to escape, hmm? Why didn't you abandon the project after you sent the telegram?"

"Pa, I—I had to see it through, I had to be a witness, and if problems came up—"

"And you being a _hostage_ is not a problem?" Ben yelled, and Joe flinched. "Or dragging your brother into that situation as well?"

"Pa…I'm sorry, they were side effects. I don't see how I could have saved the Ponderosa without doing what I did."

The four men looked at each other, processing each side of the argument. Ben finally released a breath, and passed a hand across his cheek. "I won't give any consequences for this, Joe, since Adam has taken care of that previously. But I want your word of honor that this is the last time."

The two shook hands, and the four men quickly dispersed, relieved to be released from the emotional tension.

BBBBBBB

"Can I join you?" Adam asked later that evening, joining Little Joe by the fence. "I come bearing gifts."

Little Joe grinned, and accepted a small glass of which contents neither man spoke of. He downed it in one smile, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grimace.

"It should go without saying, Joe, but I'll say it anyway. That was damn impressive, how you saved our ranch."

Joe turned away, but Adam could hear the smile in his voice. "Thanks, Yankee."

Adam turned the conversation to its needed direction. "I've got apologize for my part in the past few weeks, Joe."

"You were doing what you thought best, under the circumstances." Joe gazed contentedly into the sky, rubbing his thumb around the glass.

"In some ways, yes…but I also didn't think outside the box. I was too authoritarian, which isn't the best way to handle teenagers. I figured if I wore you out once, that would be the end of it…but you're might persistent, and I was forced to follow through on my promise."

"I was surprised that you took that approach, yeah. But what else were you supposed to do?" Joe shrugged. "I was trying to piss you off, and succeeded. I got my reward."

"Alright. Thanks." Adam felt some tension leave his shoulders.

Joe paused. "But, of course…never again, right, Adam?" His tone of voice made it known that this was a statement more than a question.

Adam laughed. "Never again, whelp." He clapped Little Joe twice on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, Joe. I was afraid you'd changed completely."

"Not yet. But I wonder. I'll have to make a decision in the next few years, whether to stay or go."

"You've got time. I still wonder that myself occasionally. When you get the wanderlust, you'll know." Adam used his forearms to push off the fence, and began walking toward the barn to care for the horses.

Joe caught up with him. "So, uh—I guess I should also apologize for adding to your grey hairs, beating you up in the barn, and indirectly leading to your abduction and enclosure into a very tight space."

Adam laughed. He threw Little Joe a brush and began grooming his favorite horse. "Par for the course. It comes with being a Cartwright. But never again, right, Joe?"

"No more secrets," Joe affirmed.

"Really?" Hoss appeared from a stall further down. "You know, my life wasn't too great during this stunt, either, Little Joe. You're even with Adam, but how about me?"

Little Joe sighed, and Adam hid a smile. "I guess you have something in mind, Hoss?"

Hoss contemplatively knocked one book against the other. "How about shining my boots every day for two weeks?"

"Hoss, you've never shined your shoes in your life!"

"So these two weeks will be extra special, then, huh Joe?" Hoss arched an eyebrow.

Little Joe shrugged in resignation. "Have it your way, Hoss."

"Don't mind if I do." Hoss shook Little Joe's hand a tad too dramatically, walked outside and into the pig pen, and waded through the pig slop.


End file.
